


Implanted and Unavoidable

by SarahHBE



Series: Stony Bingo 2017 [11]
Category: Avengers (Comics), Iron Man (Comic), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Depressed Steve Rogers, Forced soulbonding, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, M/M, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 16:25:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12346335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahHBE/pseuds/SarahHBE
Summary: The implant was forced on Tony.  The future was forced on Steve.





	Implanted and Unavoidable

**Author's Note:**

> for my Bingo prompt "forced soulbonding"

“I don’t want it!” The small child pushed and pulled against the hands holding him down.

 

“Stop it right now, Tony!  Stark Industries invented these.  I can’t very well put them on the market as safe if I don’t show that we’re willing to implant them.”  Howard said, his irritation growing as the nurses tried to keep the squirming six-year-old on the bed.  The doctor he hired looked to him for guidance, indecision on his face.

 

“Do it.  Gag him if you must.  But no putting him under.  Starks are made of iron.”

 

The doctor looked horrified for a moment but did as he was told.  Tony was sweating as he writhed on the bed.  His brown eyes wide as the device was placed on his left wrist, right above the pulsing veins.  It was an inch wide and three inches long with a smooth digital screen across the top.  The half inch thickness made it look gigantic against his tiny forearm.  As carefully as possible he placed the implanting machine Howard designed over it.  It covered the smaller device and almost all of Tony’s small forearm. 

 

Every second the doctor took to try and make the process less painful the more Tony’s terror mounted.  With a click of the button on top, the machine locked Tony’s arm in place and the whole thing jumped as a massive amount of pressure forced the smaller device into the flesh of his arm, cutting through flesh until it latched on the intermediate antebrachial vein.

 

Tony screamed.

 

_28:4:1:1_

28 years, 4 months, 1 week, 1 day until you meet your soul mate.

 

-  - - - - - - - - - - -

 

_Stark Industries has unveiled The Soulmate Counter©.  Inventor and CEO Howard Stark assures us that even though the first-generation Counters only show what day you’ll meet your soulmate, the counter will vibrate when you encounter the actual person.  Mr. Stark also stated his company is currently working to refine the counters to get them to show the exact second you’ll meet your soulmate._

 

-  - - - - - - - - - - -

 

When he woke up, Steve was told he was home.  But the more he looked at the towering skyscrapers, the unusual looking cars, and the people with all kinds of electronic devices in their faces the more Steve knew he was far from home.  And there was no going back.  Bucky had been the one most excited to see what the advances in technology would be in the future.  Steve clutched the charcoal in his hands like a lifeline, forcing his eyes to look towards the building he had been drawing.  _Don’t think about Bucky.  Don’t think about a tenement long torn down.  Don’t think._

 

Stark Tower was everything Steve disliked about this alien place he now lived in.  Modern architecture was all about new and shiny and Steve just couldn’t see beauty in any of the hard steel lines of the glittering monument to innovation.  But he drew it.  He let his hand flow into the charcoal and onto the paper, creating blunt lines and perfect curves. 

 

Once again Steve wondered what it would be like the meet the son of his former compatriot.  Would he see something in Anthony Stark that would remind him of Howard?  Probably.  Steve had seen enough pictures to know there were physical similarities that hinted at the father in the son.  What kept him from introducing himself, though, was the uncertainty of how Steve would feel at such reminders.  He hadn’t been particularly close to Howard, but would that little bit be enough to devastate Steve farther.  Seeing Peggy had sent him into a deathly silence which resulted in weekly therapist meetings.  He’d only shown up for the first where he politely said he wouldn’t be returning.

 

“A penny for your thoughts?”

 

Steve started at the voice, looking up to see the seat opposite him now filled with a red-headed assassin.  Natasha was relaxed and looked as if she’d been in that seat nearly as long as he had.  There was even a half empty cup of coffee sitting on the table in front of her.

 

“Uh.”

 

“Trying to decide if you can part with a valuable penny?”  Natasha smirked and Steve forced a smile in return.  He wasn’t sure if the attention was prompted by her boss wanting to keep an eye on him or if she genuinely was going out of her way to make him feel like he had at least one friend in the world.

 

“I’ve successfully managed to purchase coffee without passing out at the cost.”  Steve retorted which got a grin out of the agent.  “Didn’t that have a shorter number on it last time I saw you?”  He pointed to her left forearm.  Natasha didn’t bat an eye nor look down at the timer on her arm.

 

“It’s a fake I can set to whatever time I want.”  Steve stared at the sleek metal plate with the numbers ticking down on it.  Steve had the hardest time understanding the Counters, as people called them.  But after seeing the way everyone in this new time was practically attached to their phones and computers he wasn’t shocked they’d started implanting technology into themselves.  The fact that they choose Counters, which apparently counted down to you meeting your soulmate as that implant, though, was beyond odd to Steve considering most people looked allergic to speaking with the person next to them.

 

“84.6% of the population have them.  Having one helps me blend in.”  Natasha sipped her coffee with a shrug.

 

“Why not have one that works?”  Natasha gave Steve a blank stare that made him fidget.  He wondered if he’d overstepped some social rule.

 

“Having one that actually works is not beneficially to someone meant to have no allies.”  Steve winced.  He didn’t have the full story on Romanoff but he knew she was raised in some Soviet program which had resulted in the highly skilled killer she was before her employment with SHEILD.

 

“Couldn’t you get one that worked, now?”

 

Natasha simply shrugged again.  “Since they’re attached to the blood vessels removing them can cause severe damage.  Especially the first-generation models.  Why the interest, Captain?  Thinking about getting one?”

 

“One of the nurses at SHEILD seemed pretty intent on me getting one.  But I’d rather not have one.”  Steve could just imagine the 90 something having a heart attack or stroke when he showed up at their nursing home.

 

“I bet she was.”  Natasha’s lips curled up in a smirk.  “You gonna sit here all day doodling or you want to go do something.”

 

“I don’t know, doodling sounds real fun.”  He hummed to himself as if considering the idea of doing something else.

 

“You glare at Stark’s building much longer it’ll probably collapse in sheer disappointment.”

 

“What do you mean?”  Steve’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.

 

“That’s right, you’ve never met Stark, yet.  Come on, it’s almost 5.  Let’s go hit the MOMA.”  She gave him an expectant look that promised dire consequences if he didn’t comply.  So, Steve packed up his things and followed.

 

 

-  - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

Steve hated the MOMA.  He couldn’t understand why throwing paint at a canvas was considered fine art.  Natasha had made some comment about letting the hate flow through him so it can lead him to the ‘dark side.’  He knew it was some kind of pop culture reference he didn’t know and of which he knew she knew he didn’t know.  Shrugging he wondered from a Jackson Pollock to Jasper Johns.

 

“That’s because it’s crap.”  A voice carried from across the room perfectly mimicking Steve’s thoughts.

 

“Oh please, Tony.  You don’t know anything about art.  You judge it on how good it is based on the price tag.”  The man next to him responded.

 

“That’s not true.  I get portraits in the mail that cost me nothing and yet are masterpieces.”  The first man said.  Steve could only see the back of the two men.  One was in a business suit and had a styled head of short black hair.  The other was dressed casually in khakis and a polo, his dark hair cut close to his head.  The second man was military, Steve would bet on it.

 

“You are an ass, Tony.”

 

“Aw, sugarplum, you hurt my feelings.  Though I think dragging me here was tantamount to an assassination attempt so you really are the worst person here.”  Both men chuckled at each other in a way only close friends could.

 

Steve sighed, feeling a bone deep sense of longing.  He turned back to the Johns’ painting and grimaced.  “This really is crap.” He bemoaned.

 

“Ah, a sane person in this mad house!” The Tony from across the room spoke up.  Steve turned to find the pair had moved and were now only about ten feet of him. 

 

His eyes locked on the brown eyes of the African-American man which were attempting to roll into the man’s head.  Steve then caught the eyes of the man who had spoken and found him staring at Anthony Edward Stark.  Steve couldn’t make out much of his expression behind the sunglasses he had on.  The sunglasses he had on _inside_.  Steve felt like mimicking Tony’s friend with an eye roll of his own.

 

“Were you dragged here against your will by someone, too?”  Tony asked with a wide smile.

 

“Uh, yes.  Though I have no idea wher- “His cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out with a frown of apology in the two men’s direction.

 

_Got called in.  Entertain yourself._

 

For a second Steve felt a rush of anger.  Natasha had brought him to this black hole of bad art and was now dumping him.

 

“Uh, oh.  Someone’s in trouble.  Your girl ditch you?”  Tony gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder for which his friend gave him an incredulous look.

 

“No, coworker, kind of.” Steve shrugged.  “But now I’m free to leave.  You, on the other hand, look like you’re stuck.”  Tony’s hands shot to his chest as if he’d been wounded.

 

“Ah, evil man you.”  Tony’s friend snickered.  Steve gave them a nod before heading for the stairs.  In the back ground, he heard Tony’s friend speak up.

 

“Why is your hand twitching like that?”

 

Whatever the response was Steve didn’t hear.  He was so focused on getting out of the MOMA nothing could stop him.  Steve didn’t stop until he was outside in the early evening.  He took a breath enjoying a sense of freedom far too intense for just leaving the museum.  Looking around he had no idea what to do now.  He could go home and, well, do nothing.  He could go back and try to finish the sketch of Stark Tower but the light was different now.  Finally, he decided to go see a movie.  It was mindless enough he could zone out.

 

A hand settled on his shoulder and Steve felt his muscles tense in preparation for a fight.  He turned slowly, though, only to blink in confusion.  Tony Stark was standing next to him, sunglasses off revealing wide blue eyes and a stupefied expression on his face.  Tony dropped his hand and his right hand went to his left forearm.

 

“Sorry.  Uh.  Didn’t mean to startle you.”  Steve watched Tony rub his left forearm and then it clicked.  He recalled what 84.6% of the population had on their left forearms.  Steve felt his jaw drop.

 

“Um.  Hi.  I- I’m Tony Stark.”  The man looked utterly baffled as to what was going on and Steve was sure he wasn’t much better but he took the offered hand and shook it.

 

“Steve Rogers.”  He responded automatically.  Tony’s eyebrows knitted over his nose and Steve noticed that Tony’s eyes were various shades of blue, from a deep navy to a brilliant lapis.  Those eyes glanced up and down Steve before studying his face like he was trying to take apart the pieces and put them back together.

 

“Nick Fury’s _Steve Rogers_?” Tony finally said nearly choking on his own words.

 

“I don’t belong to Fury.”  Steve dropped Tony’s hand unsure of why he’d held on for so long.  Tony didn’t seem to take offense and instead just started laughing.  He laughed so hard he doubled over and when he became erect again he had tears in those vivid eyes.

 

“You’re _Captain America_.”  Tony said through his laughter as if he couldn’t believe it.

 

By now Tony’s friend had shown up.  The black man eyed Tony like he was deranged but Tony just clasped his shoulder and used it for balance.

 

“Rhodey!  This is _Captain America_.  Captain America is who I meet when my Counter went off.”  Rhodey went from looking disgusted (friendly like, though, Steve noted) to his eyes bugging out of his head.

 

“Oh, God.  He wouldn’t shut up about you before.  Now it’s going to be so, so much worse.”  Rhodey groaned, looking Heavenward as if he needed strength.  Steve felt himself smile.  Tony continued laughing and it was really getting irritating.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think in the comments or on my tumblr page [sarah-has-blue-eyes](https://sarah-has-blue-eyes.tumblr.com/)


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